


wear your war wounds like a crown

by nosrav



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death, can be seen as pre-slash if you want
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:02:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28085889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nosrav/pseuds/nosrav
Summary: After the baby Changeling dies, Odo takes a leap of faith and confides in Quark.
Relationships: Odo & Quark (Star Trek), Odo/Quark (Star Trek)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 54





	wear your war wounds like a crown

**Author's Note:**

> hello everyone! i hope you all enjoy my fic. its my first for ds9 and one of my first for trek in general so i hope i did these characters justice and they're not too ooc, I tried to make it as believably soft for quark and odo as possible. title is from the song levon by elton john... doesn't really match the fic but I really could not think of a title lol

When the walk with Kira ends, Odo feels like he still has a ways to go. Once she leaves, he misses the feeling of her arm wrapped comfortingly, almost protectively, around his shoulders, and he knows he can’t head back to his quarters yet. He can’t be alone yet.

He lets his feet carry him to wherever they may lead him, and he’s hardly surprised when he finds himself outside of Quark’s bar. All roads lead back to Quark.

Quark is still sitting at the bar; exactly where he was when Odo got the transmission about the changeling. He hasn’t moved. The lights are still dim, the room is still quiet, and Odo is immensely grateful that Quark is still here.

Quark hears Odo enter and turns around in his seat before walking to greet him. The look on Odo’s face must say everything that needs to be said, because Quark’s face falls instantly. He asks anyway.

“How’s the baby?”

Odo opens his mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. He shuts his mouth, turning it into a thin, straight line, and shakes his head.

“Oh, Odo,” Quark says, and he reaches upward and grabs Odo’s arm, dragging him back to the bar. Odo sits in the chair Quark was in, and Quark hurries his way around behind the bar. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks, and his eyes go soft, expectant.

Odo hesitates. He wouldn’t mind talking about it, but this is Quark. Then again, he looks genuine. Odo concedes.

“It was sick. It was always sick. We just didn’t realize. It died… in my hands,” he says, laying his hands out on the bar and staring down at them. “When it died, it sort of… absorbed into me,” Odo continues, meeting Quark’s eyes. “I’m no longer a solid. It restored me.”

“Well,” Quark says, looking a bit confused. “Congratulations. And sorry for your loss.”

Odo gives a quick harrumph of a laugh with no real humor behind it. “It’s a confusing situation.”

“Yes, it is,” Quark agrees, picking up the glasses of pink liquor that Odo poured earlier and combining their contents into one glass. “I’m sorry Odo,” he says, before holding the glass up in the air. 

“To the baby,” he offers as a toast, and Odo nods stiffly in agreement. Quark drinks the alcohol for the both of them. 

“I wish I knew what to say,” Quark admits as he sets down his glass.   
“I’m half surprised you’re not being insufferable right now,” Odo responds. He regrets it after Quark looks back at him with a genuinely hurt expression on his face. 

“Odo, I know I give you a lot of trouble, but I would never be so crass about something so obviously painful.”

Odo feels ashamed for even thinking it. “I’m sorry.”

Quark sighs. “It’s alright. I know how painful it is to lose someone. I lost my father, remember?”

Odo nods.

“But I can’t even imagine the pain of losing a child. I imagine that it pales in comparison to losing anyone else, but I wouldn’t know. I’m not a father.”

“You’re an uncle,” Odo says, trying to get Quark to understand. 

Quark thinks about Nog, about how adorable he was when he was a child. He remembers reading to him, singing to him, taking care of him when Rom was too tired. He thinks about how caring he is, how morally strong. He may not be a great Ferengi, but he is an honorable officer, a hard worker, and a very loved nephew. Quark is proud of him. Quark is very afraid to lose him. 

He imagines it for a second; Nog killed by enemy forces, Nog bleeding out on a battlefield, Nog sick and dying in a lab like the baby Changeling, and the feeling hits him in the chest like a phaser blast. A hard pressure forms there, and his eyes burn. He grabs Odo’s hands, still laid out on the bar, as he waits for the feeling to pass. He waits for the lump in his throat to disappear before he speaks.

“I think I get it.” His voice is raspy.

Odo meets Quark’s eyes, shiny with tears, and squeezes his hands back. “There was so much I wanted to teach it,” he whispers. “So much for it to learn. I was so excited.”

“I’m so sorry,” Quark says again.

“I never felt so connected to anything in my life,” Odo says. “I wanted it to grow up so badly. I loved it so much.”

“I know. I could tell. I’ve never seen you so… exuberant. You were glowing.”

Odo isn’t a solid anymore. He can’t cry, but he feels a familiar instability, the feeling of losing control that, for solids, accompanies tears. 

“Odo,” Quark says, his fingers hesitantly wrapped around Odo’s, which are half transparent around the edges, amber and rippling. Trembling. Odo can’t hold himself together.

“I promised myself I wouldn’t treat it the same way I had been treated in the lab. More importantly, I promised the baby. I told it I wouldn’t hurt it, that I would love it and nurture it. But what did I do? I let the threat of Federation interference force my hand. I electrocuted it the same way I had been, and I did it while it was dying right under my nose. I didn’t know.”

“There’s no telling what the Federation might have done to it in order to gain information on the Changelings,” Quark says, still trying to hold onto Odo’s hands which are rapidly becoming nothing more than sludge. Quark can see the edges of Odo ripple and shimmer all over his body, not unlike when he’s sick and can’t hold his form. “You did what you had to do. If I could tell that you loved the child, then it must have known that you loved it, too.”

“It was so talented,” Odo whispers. “It could have been an amazing shapeshifter. I’ll never know. And now that I’m no longer a solid, I can’t even mourn it properly.”

Quark tilts his head, confused. “Properly?” He lets his question trail off.

“No tears will be shed for it.”

“Any feelings you have for it are proper, Odo. I’m so sorry you had to deal with this. I’m sorry you never saw it grow up.”

Odo is shocked to see Quark’s eyes brimming with tears. 

“You would have made a wonderful father. You are a wonderful father. And, if you would like, I can mourn your child with you. I can shed enough tears for the both of us.”

Odo nods in agreement, their hands still clasped together over the bar.


End file.
